


Attention

by Eralk Fang (EralkFang)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Biting, Bruises, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 14:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6472777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EralkFang/pseuds/Eralk%20Fang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux wants the bruises to last, for Ren to feel them as the leather of his leggings rubs against them and think of who put them there and why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Attention

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [the following prompt at tfa_kink](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=8579449#cmt8579449):
>
>> kylo has such gorgeous, pale thighs. hux bites hard and marks them, teeth indents and all. kylo gets off on it.
>> 
>> that's it, that's the prompt.

Red hair—on humans—is rare in the galaxy, and, accordingly, General Hux has received a lot of attention for his coloring in his lifetime. Most of it has been simple obversation, some of it has been inappropriately prurient. A courtesan once asked him if he was the same color at dusk as he was at noon. Once he’d worked out that she’d been inquiring about the color of his pubic hair, he’d bought out all her appointments for the night just so he could command her to leave the building. 

He, of course, hardly finds it exotic. He’s too aware of how his skin mottles and burns. If he overexerts himself, he flushes all over. His eyelashes turn invisible in the wrong light. When he wakes up late at night in a sweat and staggers into the refresher to wash his face, the mirror shows him a ruddy smear instead of a reflection. 

If anyone should be getting attention for their complexion, Hux thinks, it ought to be Ren. He rakes his eyes over the exposed expanse of Ren’s milky skin as he settles onto his stomach between Ren’s legs. The backs of Ren’s knees bump against Hux’s shoulders as Hux rises up a little on his elbows. Ren’s body is a monochromatic study in contrasts: against all that pale skin, his hair is dark and shining between his legs and dark moles dot his flesh occasionally, like haphazard constellations. 

There are only two things red on Ren: his leaking, hard cock, jutting impressively between his legs, and his mouth, lips stretched and swollen from sucking Hux’s cock. Some of Hux’s come is still smeared across the corner of Ren’s mouth. Hux always comes first—not because of his rank, but because of Ren’s sometimes unsettling enthusiasm for begging Hux to fuck his throat, often while his mouth is already stuffed full of him. Hux is always happy to indulge him. After all, this entire arrangement is an indulgence. 

Hux glances up at Ren to find Ren watching him, those dark, liquid eyes half-shuttered but focused intently on him. Ren’s thick cock strains and leaks at his eye level, but Hux doesn’t touch it. Instead, he lifts his chin up deliberately, maintaining eye contact, and just breathes over the head. Ren hisses as his hips writhe. Hux presses both hands against the backs of Ren’s thighs, just under the crease of his ass, and digs his fingers in to hold Ren in place. Ren’s thighs tense under his fingers, and he hears Ren swallow somewhere above him. 

Hux presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Ren’s left knee, before moving inwards. When he drags his tongue over the coarser hair of his inner thigh, Ren arches his back and tries to buck his hips, but Hux presses his fingers in harder to contain him. “Settle,” he warns, pulling back, and Ren’s back flattens obediently to the mattress. 

Hux gives Ren’s right thigh the same treatment, but not before breathing on the head of Ren’s cock again. Ren whines above him as his cock leaks precome. It glistens in the half-light of Hux’s quarters as it drips down his aching, unattended cock. Ren leaks so easily. Hux assumes it’s something to do with his lack of experience, and delights in making him do so. “Eager, aren’t we?” Hux murmurs into the warm skin of Ren’s right thigh.

Ren begins to respond, but it dissolves into a low groan when Hux sinks his teeth into the slightly softer muscle of Ren’s inner thighs. Ren is so physically imposing that it’s hard to imagine there’s any softness to him, but Hux has made it his mission to catalog and exploit these rare spots on Ren’s flesh—his lush mouth, the strong curve of his shoulders, the insides of his powerful thighs. 

Hux bites his way methodically down one pale thigh and up the other, digging his teeth in, sucking hard enough to bruise. As he alternates, Ren’s dripping cock practically strains towards his lips. Ren reaches a hand down to relieve himself, but Hux clicks his tongue. “You’ll come from this or not at all,” Hux commands.

“I _can’t_ ,” Ren whines. 

“Of course you can,” Hux coos nastily. That’s the beauty of Ren and, tangentially, the Force: he can do anything if he puts his mind to it. 

He just needs the right motivation. 

Hux bites Ren’s thighs hard enough to bruise, but not hard enough to break the skin. While the idea of scarring Ren’s thighs is appealing, that’s not what he wants. He wants the bruises to last, for Ren to feel them as the leather of his leggings rubs against them and think of who put them there and why. He wants Ren to feel the entire healing process—the sharp, aching pain of the initially dark bruises, the softer ache as they yellow. Eventually, the pain will only be summoned back to the surface by Ren digging his fingers into the almost invisible bruises. Ren does that, he knows, presses on the bruises he gives him. Ren told him once, while Hux was fucking him over his desk, how the boredom of a long patrol had once driven him to cross his legs, just to press the parallel chains of circular bruises together and savor the pain. “Did it make you come?” Hux had sneered into his ear as he fucked Ren deeper. 

“Al—almost,” Ren had groaned. Hux had come right then and there at the idea of it. 

Hux sucks on Ren’s inner thigh _hard_ , and Ren makes a cracked, desperate noise. “Hux, _please_ ,” Ren begs, and it’s a such a pretty sound out of his usually contrary mouth that Hux has to relent.

“Oh, alright.” He removes his right hand from Ren’s thigh to suck on his index and middle fingers. Just enough to get them slick with his own spit, at first, but when he sees how Ren’s eyes snag on his face, Hux smirks up at him and pulls his fingers out, tonguing them showily just to hear Ren’s breathing hitch. 

He presses his spit-wet index finger against Ren’s hole, circling the ring of muscle there slowly—too slow for Ren, who tries to bear down on it. “Slow down,” Hux chides. “You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?”

“I don’t _care_ ,” Ren growls, and Hux takes this as consent to breach him. Ren grimaces and hisses. It’s tight and saliva isn’t the best lubricant, but Ren eventually opens up just enough to admit Hux’s two fingers. Hux slips them in to the second knuckle. He crooks his fingers, brushing Ren’s prostate, and Ren’s hips stutter upwards as he cries out.

Satisfied, Hux turns his attention back to Ren’s thigh. He bites and sucks at Ren’s right inner thigh at random now, imagining how the bruises will look— a smear of sickly purple against Ren’s pale skin, indentations of teeth clear enough to tell anyone fool enough to look exactly who Ren belongs to. He keeps working his fingers, crooking and scissoring. His drained cock twitches weakly at the breathy, obscene noises Ren keeps making, and Hux almost wishes he’d held out against Ren’s insistence on taking him in his mouth, if only to be able to replace his fingers with his cock at this moment. 

Hux jabs sharply at Ren’s prostate and Ren comes with a sudden cry. Hux watches as Ren squirts come onto his stomach, cock twitching with the force of his orgasm. He continues fingering Ren through it, until his cock slowly begins to soften.

Hux removes his fingers and wipes them on Ren’s inner thigh, pressing against what will be, come morning, the most impressive bruise, as high up Ren’s thigh as Hux could get without brushing his cheek against Ren’s erection. Ren sighs at the pressure. 

Hux gets to his hands and knees and crawls calmly over Ren to lie down next to him, lying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “You’ve made a mess,” Hux notes, lifting his chin at the small pool of come on Ren’s abs. 

Ren is still panting, but he manages to recover himself enough to respond, “Should I clean it up?” He smirks lop-sidedly at Hux. 

Hux smirks back at him. “I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?” He runs a finger through the rapidly cooling mess and thrusts it into his mouth to suck it off his finger. He doesn’t do it for the briny, bitter taste, but to see Ren’s eyes widen. Ren obliges him, and the look is so fetching on him that Hux reaches up, wipes his own dry come off of Ren’s face, and kisses him.

And bites him again, just for good measure.


End file.
